


Blade

by Arcadias_Fire



Series: Dream of Mirrors: After the Fade to Black [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bloodplay, Established Relationship, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 21:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcadias_Fire/pseuds/Arcadias_Fire
Summary: They come together, broken and bleeding, bruised and bloodied. The pain makes it sweeter. The blood tastes of ecstasy on his lover’s tongue. Groans of pain and pleasure, nearly indistinguishable. Impossible to tell one from the other when bruises are sucked into skin, nails drawn down backs, sharp enough to cut, hips gripped so tightly their marks won’t fade for days.Oh, how he misses it.And no one can ever know.***Loki dreams of forbidden lusts, blood, and sex. Things he knows his mortal will not countenance. Loki's mortal is a good man, and good men did not harm their lovers. Good men abhorred violence and cruelty. Good men were gentle and kind.Good men might surprise their godly lovers.





	Blade

**Author's Note:**

> Another E rated adjunct chapter for "Dream of Mirrors". It probably stands on it's own okay without the context of the larger story.

 

Through the eyes of his dreams, Loki sees the hero. In this dream, he is the villain, and Tom is the hero, trying to save him from his own madness. He dreams of passion stolen behind closed doors as they sneak about to see one another, and the lust is all the sweeter in the shadows. This pattern of “we mustn’t be caught” is familiar to Loki; a part of him ached for the illicit sting of forbidden love.

 

The god-as-villain pulls the mortal-as-hero to him in a frantic bid for taboo kisses and unthinkable desires. He hungers for this prohibited life they share. No one must know. They are nearly caught again and again. He covers his lover's mouth with his own to smother his cries as he comes, his teammates a few feet away. They mustn’t know.

 

They must fight, when they see one another in public. Their secret is hidden by violence. For Loki to strike his precious mortal would be unthinkable, but the villain must beat the hero and be beaten in return. When they battle, it is only one step from fucking one another into the floor, but no one must know.

 

They come together, broken and bleeding, bruised and bloodied. The pain makes it sweeter. The blood tastes of ecstasy on his lover’s tongue. Groans of pain and pleasure, nearly indistinguishable. Impossible to tell one from the other when bruises are sucked into skin, nails drawn down backs, sharp enough to cut, hips gripped so tightly their marks won’t fade for days.

 

Oh, how he misses it.

 

And no one can ever know.

 

o0o

 

It was never difficult to convince Tom to make love first thing in the morning; human males seemed to have that in common with Asgardian ones. But Loki ached for something darker than what Tom was able to give, at least in his sleepy state. He pleaded with his mortal for something harder, harsher, _more_ , and the mortal did his best, but it just wasn’t quite enough after the bloodsoaked violence of his dreams. The god twisted with the agony of near-ecstasy for an age before a hand in his hair pulled sharply enough to jerk his head back, and teeth at his throat bit down hard enough to bruise. He screamed under the pain and rapture of merciful release.

 

Another age passed before he opened his eyes.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Loki nodded.

 

“Are you sure? I’ve never seen you like that before.” Tom soothed Loki's hair back with the hand that had torn at it moments before.

 

“My dreams…” The god hesitated. How would his mortal react to sex soaked in blood? “My dreams were… violent.”

 

Tom raised an eyebrow at that. “Not just violent.”

 

“No.” Loki shook his head. “I have no desire to harm you, beloved, but in my dreams, we tore one another apart, and I craved it in my blood and bones.”

 

Tom shuddered and looked away. Loki stared at him and despaired. His mortal was a good man, and good men did not harm their lovers. Good men abhorred violence and cruelty. Good men were gentle and kind. Good men…

 

Tom spoke, interrupting Loki’s spiraling thoughts. “Craved or _crave?”_ The mortal’s voice was dark, like Loki’s own, but his face was still pointed away.

 

Loki glanced down at himself significantly. “It has passed. For the moment.”

 

Tom looked back. His eyes were dark and strangely empty. Loki had never seen the mortal look more like his own mirror image than in that moment. The hand in his hair tightened into a fist and _pulled_. Loki’s head was tipped back, his throat exposed. Lust shot through him along with the pain and vulnerability.

 

“Are you sure about that?” the mortal purred in his ear.

 

“No,” Loki breathed the reply. He could break free easily. He didn’t want to.

 

“Do you want to fight me or have me take you?”

 

Loki’s eyes fluttered as his head was pulled back farther. “I won’t fight you.”

 

“I’m not made of glass, darling.” The words could have been said flippantly, but they weren’t. The term of endearment was more ownership than love. “I won’t break.”

 

Oh but he could break. His mortal was fragile and precious, and Loki couldn’t risk him. Didn’t want to now, in any case. This control was exquisite. As much as Loki wished to dominate others, part of him desired, _needed,_ to serve someone worthy.

 

“Perhaps another time?” Loki didn’t trust himself to not hurt his mortal right now. He was shaking.

 

“Very well.” Tom pulled his hair back far enough that Loki’s body arched off the bed. The grip he held was perfect for controlling the god’s movements. “If it’s too much, you need to tell me. But I want you to beg, plead, scream for me to stop, so you’ll need another way to tell me, yes?”

 

Loki writhed, but managed to reply. “You won’t be able to harm me.”

 

“Oh can’t I? I could do a lot of damage with one of your blades.”

 

Oh Norns, was he still dreaming? “I…”

 

“Tell me a word that means ‘no’ and I’ll listen.”

 

Loki cast about for something, a word he could say easily if he needed, but didn’t sound like anything else. “Rose.”

 

“A flower, how classic.” A sharp tug at his hair made Loki gasp. “Now summon one of your daggers for me, will you pet?”

 

The god obeyed without thought and held the blade out on an open palm. He couldn’t see the knife as it was taken out of his hand, but he felt the tip at his throat a moment later. Loki whined.

 

“Hold onto the headboard with both hands and don’t let go until I tell you to.” Loki gripped the metal rail above his head. “Good lad. Now don't move.”

 

Tom sat over Loki’s hips; a solid weight that did nothing alleviate the ache that had settled into the god’s pelvis, just teased by its nearness. Loki shuddered as the tip of the dagger dipped into the hollow of his throat. He gasped as it broke his skin. His blades were sharper than any human made knife could be. That’s why Tom had asked for one. His mortal could kill him easily right now; knew enough about Loki’s magic to do it, if he wanted to.

 

And Loki would let him.

 

But now the tip of the dagger sat on his skin, a tiny pinpoint of pain. His head wasn’t restrained anymore, but Loki still arched his back in anticipation.

 

“Please.”

 

“Please what, darling?”

 

“Please, do something.”

 

“Do what? I could do anything. I could fuck you, write my name on your skin with this lovely toy.” The dagger twisted. “I have plenty of belts, I’m sure I could figure out something do with those. Or I could just touch every inch of you and never bring you off, tie you to the bed and leave you here.”

 

“I’m yours, beloved, whatever you wish of me I shall do.”

 

Tom chuckled. “I know.” The dagger trailed down his chest, scratching his skin here and there. Loki tried to keep still the best he could, but it was so hard. “I love seeing you like this. My beautiful, powerful god, laid out for me to do whatever I want. You’d let me slit your throat, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The blade was back at Loki’s neck, edge over the tendons and arteries exposed by the arch. He whined and Tom laughed.

 

“A mere mortal could do what gods have tried and failed over and over.” The blade sliced into his skin and Loki cried out. The cry turned into a groan as he felt Tom lick across where the blade had been seconds before. “Your blood tastes like magic,” the mortal whispered in his ear, “I could drink you down and burn with it. I could take your power and rule this world.”

 

“You… you wouldn’t.”

 

“No?”

 

Loki grinned. “Not without me.”

 

Tom chuckled. “I suppose not.” Another sweep of the tongue and the cut on his neck blazed with their combined magic. “You’re already healing. That is disappointing.”

 

“I can’t help it.”

 

The mortal slid the blade across his throat again, a steady slice from one side to the other. If it had been deep, it would have been deadly, but instead it stung and bled in a perfect shallow line. Tears trickled down Loki’s cheeks and he gritted his teeth against a scream. Tom was silent and still for a long moment. Loki opened his eyes and blinked away the tears. The mortal was biting his lip and staring down at him with eyes that were nearly black with desire. Any doubts Loki might have had fled his mind. Tom wanted this as much as he did.

 

It was dizzying.

 

“Will you scar if I cut deeply enough?” the mortal asked with a voice like black velvet.

 

A moan escaped Loki’s throat. “No. I wish it would.”

 

“Me too.” The mortal moved the tip of the blade to over his chest, and slashed two quick lines, perpendicular to one another. The god cried out at the violation. Cried out again at two curved lines, screamed at the next four.

 

“Mine.”

 

“Please, yes, yours, no more.” The cuts burned as they healed.

 

“No?” A long line underscored the word on Loki’s chest, sliced the flesh over his ribs.

 

“No, please.”

 

The blade snaked down lower over the god’s stomach.

 

“Please.”

 

The dagger sliced another quick line and he leaned in, close to Loki's ear. “I’ve only just started.”

 

Loki writhed against the stinging blade, it bit deeper into his flesh and he screamed. It sliced patterns in his skin while he wailed against it. Pressed himself into the knife, against the bed, Tom’s hips above his own, writhing towards the sensations and away from them helplessly. Struggling with and against, pain and pleasure churned together until he just... collapsed. The dagger vanished, and he felt the heat of Tom’s mouth over the wounds, the sweep of his tongue soothing and burning as it went.

 

“Please!”

 

“Please what?”

 

“T... take me, please. Claim me. Make me yours in all ways.”

 

The mortal chuckled. “If you insist.”

 

Tom didn’t prep him at all, just slicked himself up and _took_. Loki screamed at that too. The burn was exactly what his body craved right now. The blade on his skin, and his mortal within. He was powerless to stop this from happening, and rode the waves of pain and pleasure gladly. He writhed as the human fucked him with all the strength he had. More than. Magic burned in the hands the gripped his hips with bruising force. Loki’s mind was flooded with sensation, overwhelmed by the pain and pleasure and magic. When the cold flat of the blade touched his cock, he came, and screamed himself horse.

 

Tom collapsed on top of him a few thrusts later.

 

They lay and breathed together for a long minute.

 

Tom spoke quietly. ”Are you alright, love?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.”

 

Loki realized he should probably ask as well. “You?”

 

“I’m amazing.”

 

“Yes, you are.”

 

Tom laughed and lifted himself free of the god. “I think you may have bent the headboard.”

 

“It should be reinforced, then.”

 

“Honestly I'm surprised we didn't break the bed frame.”

 

Loki smiled. “I reinforced that ages ago.”

 

“Is that why the bed glows?”

 

“No, it glows because we sleep on it.”

 

“Ah.” Tom ran his fingers along Loki's chest. “You may be healed already, but we should wash this off.” His fingertips were covered in blood. The god shuddered at the sight.

 

Loki got to his feet. He was shaking and Tom reached out to steady him. “I admit, beloved, I had no idea you had this in you.”

 

“Hrmm, I'm not surprised.” The mortal ran his hand up and down Loki's back. “I don't let it out often. I allow myself to express this through characters, not in real life.”

 

“It… it's breathtaking.”

 

“I'm glad you enjoyed it.”

 

“Enjoy is perhaps not the right word.”

 

Tom chuckled. “It looks to me like you enjoyed it.” They stumbled into the bath together.

 

“Craved and was deeply satisfied by, yes.” The god kissed his mortal. Tasted his own blood in the others mouth, and shivered. “Wish to do again, desperately, yes. Enjoy… perhaps not.”

 

“Well, I enjoyed myself.” Tom kissed him again, grasped Loki's shoulders and turned him around to face the mirror. “What do you think?”

 

“Oh Norns.” Tom _had_ written his name. The letters were still visible across Loki's chest. Thin pink lines streaked with crimson. Below, over his stomach was written “MINE” in block capitals. The “E” still bled sluggishly, though it would stop soon. Loki pressed his hand to the second word and it came away with a perfect print. He turned and pressed the bloodied hand to Tom's chest.

 

Tom looked down at the bright red word on his own skin. “Yes, that too.”

 

Loki grinned and kissed him again. “Do you have any other secret desires that I should know about?”

 

“Other than my not so secret desire to have both you and Ben fuck me at the same time as often as possible?” Tom smiled and shrugged. “If you wanted to tie me down at some point, I wouldn’t object, though I’m not a fan of bleeding myself.”

 

The god gave a horrified gasp. “I wouldn’t dare to damage you thus.”

 

“I can take a _little_ damage. I just don’t care for being cut.” Loki shook his head, and Tom continued. “I meant what I said, I’m not made of glass. I love that you’re gentle and so clearly want to take care of me, but sometimes I like things a bit rougher too.”

 

“Very well, but we shall discuss this at length and we shall work on improving your seidr control so that you may heal more quickly and be harmed less easily. I could easily hurt you quite badly, beloved. I could not live with myself if that happened.”

 

Tom nodded. “We should have had a conversation about this a long time ago, apparently. I wasn’t sure if you’d have the concept of a safeword, but I certainly wasn’t going to anything without one.”

 

“Asgardians do not use such a custom, but the Elves do.”

 

“Why am I not surprised?”

 

Loki grinned. “Shall we wash this away?” He gestured to his chest, and the drying crimson stain.

 

“Hrm, yes, I suppose so.” Tom trailed a finger under his name. “How long do you think the marks will last?”

 

“Perhaps a day?”

 

“Okay, no shirt for you today then.”

 

Loki laughed. “As you wish.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I turned one of the nicest men in the world into a sexual sadist. I'm not sorry. 
> 
> Okay, I'm little sorry. 
> 
> There is an in depth discussion of this in later chapter of "Dream of Mirrors".
> 
> Also, this was so much easier to write than "Game" that I doubt my own sanity.


End file.
